


Alpha

by akitsuko



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, First Time, M/M, Marking, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 20:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16002713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitsuko/pseuds/akitsuko
Summary: Monroe has always been an alpha, but then so has Nick. They both want to assert their dominance in the bedroom.





	Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> Since I'm so late to the Grimm fandom party, I figured I'd go through the old kink meme and fill some abandoned prompts. 
> 
> This one:   
> Monroe and Nick both seem to be more alpha rather than beta. I want to see a little struggle between them in bed. I don't care which one is which. But there should be some sexy time.

Monroe has Nick in his bed and flat on his back, and it’s just about the most erotic thing he’s ever seen. Nick’s shirt was lost somewhere en route to the bedroom. His chest is heaving as he gulps lungfuls of air, his hair mussed, his eyes all pupil and drinking in the sight of Monroe above him. There’s a faint flush spreading across his skin, his lips are parted and spit-slick. His knees are splayed open, not that he has much choice with Monroe settled between them, and his fingers are flexing in the sheets.

 

And Monroe wants to give this view his full and undivided attention. He really, really does. But he __can’t__  because Nick is wearing the most awkward belt he’s ever encountered in his life and trying to get it off is seriously testing his dexterity. It feels stiff and brand new and if he didn’t know better he would swear that the buckle has been cemented into place.

 

Nick licks his lips and reaches with his own hands. “Let me-”

 

But Monroe doesn’t even let him finish, slapping his fingers away as a warning growl erupts from his chest. “You stay exactly where you are.”

 

He goes back to wrestling with the stupid belt, but that means he misses the way Nick’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and that he’s distracted enough to be surprised when Nick turns the tables, yanking his legs out to send him falling back with a soft thump. Then Nick is towering above him, breath hot on his face and fingertips digging almost painfully into his ribs. “What makes you think you can tell me what to do?”

 

For a moment, Monroe is at a loss, thrown by the brazen way that Nick is challenging his assumed authority. No one has tried to assert sexual status over him in a long time, and it has him feeling like he’s stumbled into unknown and potentially dangerous territory. It occurs to him, through the haze of his arousal as Nick deftly unbuttons his shirt, that he shouldn’t be surprised. Nick’s whole life is built around roles of leadership and control, and it only makes sense that his dominance would transfer to the bedroom. His shirt is open now and Nick leans his head down to take one of his nipples between his teeth. His eyes roll back and a whine is torn from his throat.

 

He’s not denying that feeling Nick like this is incredible, or even that he has allowed himself to fantasise about submitting and allowing Nick to just __use__  and __take__. Because he has those fantasies more often than he would care to admit, and actually the orgasms he has from those fantasies are usually the ones that have him screaming into his own fist. It’s just that being alpha is in his blood and he has a burning need to make Nick come undone underneath him. He needs to mark him and claim him, hold him down and do all the filthy things he’s dreamt about. He needs to be able to feel that Nick trying to assert dominance is a futile effort.

 

Assuming that this sort of thing is going to happen again in the future (because he sincerely hopes it will), there’ll be plenty of chances for him to experiment with submission later.

 

Nick’s hand slips into his pants and he pushes his hips up into the touch. He feels Nick’s satisfied smirk against his skin, but can’t find it in himself to do anything about it because those strong fingers curl around him and he’s harder than he’s ever been before in his life. Nick seems to know instinctively how he likes to be touched and he feels helpless, unable to do anything other than writhe as Nick’s teeth scrape along his sternum and his hand strokes him so slowly that it’s almost torture.

 

He can’t take it. He surges up with Nick in his lap, one hand taking a fistful of Nick’s hair and blindly seeking Nick’s mouth with his own. The kiss is desperate and electrifying, the taste of Nick better than he could have imagined, and Nick’s enthusiasm makes his dick throb with want. Nick’s hand is still on him, giving him a delicious pressure to grind against, but it feels too much like Nick is the one calling the shots. He yanks Nick’s head back, exposing the column of his neck, secretly pleased at the hiss of pleasure-pain that escapes his lips. He runs his nose down from Nick’s jaw, inhaling deeply as he goes, stopping when he feels the shudder of his pulse point and nipping at the skin there with sharp teeth.

 

“I could tear you apart,” he warns, knowing Nick hears him as the rhythm of his hand stutters. His tongue laps at the thin layer of skin protecting Nick’s jugular. “So don’t test me.” His grip in Nick’s hair is unrelenting, and he allows himself the luxury of biting, hard enough to hurt but not enough to pierce. He sucks a mark to the surface and revels in the way Nick’s free hand clutches at him, the strained keening music to his ears.

 

Then Nick huffs out a laugh, and Monroe’s eyes snap open as Nick’s fingers press into the sensitive, vulnerable area in the small of his back. He automatically flinches away, which only serves to push his cock further into Nick’s grip and he gasps at the sudden conflict in feeling.

 

“I could take your head off,” Nick responds, though his voice cracks, his throat stretched from where Monroe’s grip on his hair is bending him at an unnatural angle. “So don’t underestimate me.”

 

It’s a threat and it’s also not. Monroe trusts Nick with every fibre of his being, and he knows that Nick would never even dream of following through on those words. However, that doesn’t alter the fact that he is absolutely capable of doing it. He’s not naive and soft like he was when they first met. He’s a Grimm who takes on Reapers and wins. If it ever came to pass that he and Nick became engaged in mortal combat (not that it would ever happen), Monroe isn’t entirely sure that he would back himself to come out alive.

 

He spends so much of his life under the assumption that he is naturally superior in strength and speed - because he usually __is__  - that he tends to forget about Nick’s position as his predator.

 

And damn it all if that doesn’t turn him on so much that he whines.

 

The irony isn’t lost on him, and he very briefly spares a thought for how he’s a disgrace to Blutbaden the world over, then he uses his bodyweight to his advantage and throws himself into Nick, knocking him back down onto the bed and covering him. He holds Nick, one hand at his shoulder and the other pressing into his hip, as he thrusts down against him, relishing the sensation of how Nick is equally hard and wanting beneath him.

 

Even though they’ve both still got their pants on, Monroe feels dizzy and sort of like he’s in one of those too-good-to-be-true dreams and he doubts he’s going to last long enough for either of them to get completely undressed. He needs Nick, all of him. The taste of him, the smell of him. He wants to see the bruises from his grip tomorrow and he wants every wesen within a hundred-mile radius to know that Nick is no longer available. And Nick’s breathing is coming heavily, his hands reaching around to grab at Monroe’s ass and pull him down to increase the friction with every thrust, digging his heels into the mattress.

 

Then Nick throws his head back, mouth falling open and that gorgeous __claim__  on display to the universe, and his whole body shudders as Monroe realises in astonishment that he’s coming in his pants. His eyes are unseeing and he looks thoroughly debauched and fucked-out and beautiful that Monroe picks up his pace, abandoning the majority of his self-control. The headboard knocks __bangbangbang__  against the wall and Monroe feels his orgasm coil in his belly, his toes curling as he tightens his grip on Nick and comes within the confines of his clothes, sticky and messy, but he’s so high on Nick that he finds it very difficult to care.

 

He rides out the waves of heat and pleasure for as long as possible before he stops making any effort to support his own weight, collapsing completely onto Nick. His hands remain in place, although the severity of his grip has lessened. Nick’s hands are massaging his ass, and Monroe is hyper aware as they inch closer to the crease in the centre, the touch hot and teasing on his sensitive skin.

 

“Monroe.” Nick’s voice is raspy, hoarse.  

 

It’s one word. His name. But it says so much more. It’s an affirmation and a confirmation. Trust. A promise, and a confession.

 

Monroe licks at the mark on Nick’s neck, and simply replies, “I know.”


End file.
